13: XIII.
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Education had felt the onward movement of the country and the times. The
whole system was, however, pervaded by the monastic spirit, which had
originally preserved all learning from annihilation, but which now kept
it wrapped in the ancient cerecloths, and stiffening in the stony
sarcophagus of a bygone age. The university of Louvain was the chief
literary institution in the provinces. It had been established in 1423
by Duke John IV. of Brabant. Its government consisted of a President and
Senate, forming a close corporation, which had received from the founder
all his own authority, and the right to supply their own vacancies. The
five faculties of law, canon law, medicine, theology, and the arts, were
cultivated at the institution. There was, besides, a high school for
under graduates, divided into four classes. The place reeked with
pedantry, and the character of the university naturally diffused itself
through other scholastic establishments. Nevertheless, it had done and
was doing much to preserve the love for profound learning, while the
rapidly advancing spirit of commerce was attended by an ever increasing
train of humanizing arts.
The standard of culture in those flourishing cities was elevated,
compared with that observed in many parts of Europe. The children of the
wealthier classes enjoyed great facilities for education in all the great
capitals. The classics, music, and the modern languages, particularly
the French, were universally cultivated. Nor was intellectual
cultivation confined to the higher orders. On the contrary, it was
diffused to a remarkable degree among the hard-working artisans and
handicraftsmen of the great cities.
For the principle of association had not confined itself exclusively to
politics and trade. Besides the numerous guilds by which citizenship was
acquired in the various cities, were many other societies for mutual
improvement, support, or recreation. The great secret, architectural or
masonic brotherhood of Germany, that league to which the artistic and
patient completion of the magnificent works of Gothic architecture in the
middle ages is mainly to be attributed, had its branches in nether
Germany, and explains the presence of so many splendid and elaborately
finished churches in the provinces. There were also military sodalities
of musketeers, cross-bowmen, archers, swordsmen in every town. Once a
year these clubs kept holiday, choosing a king, who was selected for his
prowess and skill in the use of various weapons. These festivals, always
held with great solemnity and rejoicing, were accompanied bye many
exhibitions of archery and swordsmanship. The people were not likely,
therefore, voluntarily to abandon that privilege and duty of freemen, the
right to bear arms, and the power to handle them.
Another and most important collection of brotherhoods were the so-called
guilds of Rhetoric, which existed, in greater or less number, in all the
principal cities. These were associations of mechanics, for the purpose
of amusing their leisure with poetical effusions, dramatic and musical
exhibitions, theatrical processions, and other harmless and not inelegant
recreations. Such chambers of rhetoric came originally in the fifteenth
century from France. The fact that in their very title they confounded
rhetoric with poetry and the drama indicates the meagre attainments of
these early "Rederykers." In the outset of their career they gave
theatrical exhibitions. "King Herod and his Deeds" was enacted in the
cathedral at Utrecht in 1418. The associations spread with great
celerity throughout the Netherlands, and, as they were all connected with
each other, and in habits of periodical intercourse, these humble links
of literature were of great value in drawing the people of the provinces
into closer union. They became, likewise, important political engines.
As early as the time of Philip the Good, their songs and lampoons became
so offensive to the arbitrary notions of the Burgundian government, as to
cause the societies to be prohibited. It was, however, out of the
sovereign's power permanently to suppress institutions, which already
partook of the character of the modern periodical press combined with
functions resembling the show and licence of the Athenian drama. Viewed
from the stand-point of literary criticism their productions were not
very commendable in taste, conception, or execution. To torture the
Muses to madness, to wire-draw poetry through inextricable coils of
difficult rhymes and impossible measures; to hammer one golden grain of
wit into a sheet of infinite platitude, with frightful ingenuity to
construct ponderous anagrams and preternatural acrostics, to dazzle the
vulgar eye with tawdry costumes, and to tickle the vulgar ear with
virulent personalities, were tendencies which perhaps smacked of the
hammer, the yard-stick and the pincers, and gave sufficient proof, had
proof been necessary, that literature is not one of the mechanical arts,
and that poetry can not be manufactured to a profit by joint stock
companies. Yet, if the style of these lucubrations was often depraved,
the artisans rarely received a better example from the literary
institutions above them. It was not for guilds of mechanics to give the
tone to literature, nor were their efforts in more execrable taste than
the emanations from the pedants of Louvain. The "Rhetoricians" are not
responsible for all the bad taste of their generation. The gravest
historians of the Netherlands often relieved their elephantine labors by
the most asinine gambols, and it was not to be expected that these
bustling weavers and cutlers should excel their literary superiors in
taste or elegance.
Philip the Fair enrolled himself as a member in one of these societies.
It may easily be inferred, therefore, that they had already become bodies
of recognized importance. The rhetorical chambers existed in the most
obscure villages. The number of yards of Flemish poetry annually
manufactured and consumed throughout the provinces almost exceed belief.
The societies had regular constitutions. Their presiding officers were
called kings, princes, captains, archdeacons, or rejoiced in similar
high-sounding names. Each chamber had its treasurer, its buffoon, and
its standard-bearer for public processions. Each had its peculiar title
or blazon, as the Lily, the Marigold, or the Violet, with an appropriate
motto. By the year 1493, the associations had become so important, that
Philip the Fair summoned them all to a general assembly at Mechlin. Here
they were organized, and formally incorporated under the general
supervision of an upper or mother-society of Rhetoric, consisting of
fifteen members, and called by the title of "Jesus with the balsam
flower."
The sovereigns were always anxious to conciliate these influential guilds
by becoming members of them in person. Like the players, the
Rhetoricians were the brief abstract and chronicle of the time, and
neither prince nor private person desired their ill report. It had,
indeed, been Philip's intention to convert them into engines for the
arbitrary purposes of his house, but fortunately the publicly organized
societies were not the only chambers. On the contrary, the unchartered
guilds were the moat numerous and influential. They exercised a vast
influence upon the progress of the religious reformation, and the
subsequent revolt of the Netherlands. They ridiculed, with their farces
and their satires, the vices of the clergy. They dramatized tyranny for
public execration. It was also not surprising, that among the leaders of
the wild anabaptists who disgraced the great revolution in church and
state by their hideous antics, should be found many who, like David of
Delft, John of Leyden, and others, had been members of rhetorical
chambers. The genius for mummery and theatrical exhibitions,
transplanted from its sphere, and exerting itself for purposes of fraud
and licentiousness, was as baleful in its effects as it was healthy in
its original manifestations. Such exhibitions were but the excrescences
of a system which had borne good fruit. These literary guilds befitted
and denoted a people which was alive, a people which had neither sunk to
sleep in the lap of material prosperity, nor abased itself in the sty of
ignorance and political servitude. The spirit of liberty pervaded these
rude but not illiterate assemblies, and her fair proportions were
distinctly visible, even through the somewhat grotesque garb which she
thus assumed.
The great leading recreations which these chambers afforded to themselves
and the public, were the periodic jubilees which they celebrated in
various capital cities. All the guilds of rhetoric throughout the
Netherlands were then invited to partake and to compete in magnificent
processions, brilliant costumes, living pictures, charades, and other
animated, glittering groups, and in trials of dramatic and poetic skill,
all arranged under the superintendence of the particular association
which, in the preceding year, had borne away the prize. Such jubilees
were called "Land jewels."
From the amusements of a people may be gathered much that is necessary
for a proper estimation of its character. No unfavorable opinion can be
formed as to the culture of a nation, whose weavers, smiths, gardeners,
and traders, found the favorite amusement of their holidays in composing
and enacting tragedies or farces, reciting their own verses, or in
personifying moral and esthetic sentiments by ingeniously-arranged
groups, or gorgeous habiliments. The cramoisy velvets and yellow satin
doublets of the court, the gold-brocaded mantles of priests and princes
are often but vulgar drapery of little historic worth. Such costumes
thrown around the swart figures of hard-working artisans, for literary
and artistic purposes, have a real significance, and are worthy of a
closer examination. Were not these amusements of the Netherlanders as
elevated and humanizing as the contemporary bull-fights and autos-da-fe
of Spain? What place in history does the gloomy bigot merit who, for the
love of Christ, converted all these gay cities into shambles, and changed
the glittering processions of their Land jewels into fettered marches to
the scaffold?
Thus fifteen ages have passed away, and in the place of a horde of
savages, living among swamps and thickets, swarm three millions of
people, the most industrious, the most prosperous, perhaps the most
intelligent under the sun. Their cattle, grazing on the bottom of the
sea, are the finest in Europe, their agricultural products of more
exchangeable value than if nature had made their land to overflow with
wine and oil. Their navigators are the boldest, their mercantile marine
the most powerful, their merchants the most enterprising in the world.
Holland and Flanders, peopled by one race, vie with each other in the
pursuits of civilization. The Flemish skill in the mechanical and in the
fine arts is unrivalled. Belgian musicians delight and instruct other
nations, Belgian pencils have, for a century, caused the canvas to glow
with colors and combinations never seen before. Flemish fabrics are
exported to all parts of Europe, to the East and West Indies, to Africa.
The splendid tapestries, silks, linens, as well as the more homely and
useful manufactures of the Netherlands, are prized throughout the world.
Most ingenious, as they had already been described by the keen-eyed
Caesar, in imitating the arts of other nations, the skillful artificers
of the country at Louvain, Ghent, and other places, reproduce the shawls
and silks of India with admirable accuracy.
Their national industry was untiring; their prosperity unexampled; their
love of liberty indomitable; their pugnacity proverbial. Peaceful in
their pursuits, phlegmatic by temperament, the Netherlands were yet the
most belligerent and excitable population of Europe. Two centuries of
civil war had but thinned the ranks of each generation without quenching
the hot spirit of the nation.
The women were distinguished by beauty of form and vigor of constitution.
Accustomed from childhood to converse freely with all classes and sexes
in the daily walks of life, and to travel on foot or horseback from one
town to another, without escort and without fear, they had acquired
manners more frank and independent than those of women in other lands,
while their morals were pure and their decorum undoubted. The prominent
part to be sustained by the women of Holland in many dramas of the
revolution would thus fitly devolve upon a class, enabled by nature and
education to conduct themselves with courage.
Within the little circle which encloses the seventeen provinces are 208
walled cities, many of them among the most stately in Christendom, 150
chartered towns, 6,300 villages, with their watch-towers and steeples,
besides numerous other more insignificant hamlets; the whole guarded by a
belt of sixty fortresses of surpassing strength.
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